“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, plucking at my clothes, wondering what my life would look like a month from now.
The last text I’d received from Kyler before I had to toss my burner was an old-school spreadsheet of all the locations Detective Rafferty had been in the last few months. Rafferty had returned to a place on Lake Buchanan several times, mostly on weekends. He’d spent Thanksgiving out there, it seemed, and I was curious if that was where he was going for Christmas.
If so, we’d be within mere miles of each other for the holiday.
It was tempting—so fucking tempting—to see if I could slip out somehow. If I’d had less attentive officers on duty, maybe. But something told me that wouldn’t work with these two. It was enough to know he was outhere, though, and that at any time, the second I had freedom, I could give the good detective a visit.
“That’s bullshit,” growled Ranger Coates, his first words of the trip. Before I could ask, he turned up the radio station.
“We’ve got a freeze and possible snow warning out for the Highland Lakes area, folks,” announced the chipper radio host. “Probably just a light dusting, but take the usual precautions and keep your fingers crossed for a white Christmas.”
The three of us looked outside and laughed. We were still deep in West Texas, and the temperature was in the seventies.
“Time to bust out the parkas, gentlemen,” I joked.
Arnold rolled his eyes at me in the rearview. “I’ll get right on that.”
Coates lowered the radio, and I settled in the back, wondering what Rafferty was doing right now as Arnold and Coates quietly discussed alternate Christmas plans.
It sounded like Arnold was trying to set up Coates with his sister-in-law, but Coates was hesitant, given the fruitcake situation. Funny.
I hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, too anxious, worried that the deal would be ripped out from under me before I had a chance to breathe free air. But now, here I was, officially in protective custody. Officially out of jail. Officially starting a life away from my family.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to let the nigglinganxiety recede to the background. After a while, the officers’ quiet conversation and the rhythm of the road lulled me to sleep.
“Shit!” Coates cursed, the sound of skidding tires filling the SUV.
My eyes snapped open. I was confused by the chill in the air and the darkened skies, but before I could form a question…impact.
I was rocked by the side impact airbags, deafened by screeching metal, and disoriented by the car sliding on the road.
Why are we sliding?
“He rammed into us on purpose,” Arnold said through gritted teeth as Coates grabbed the radio and started sending out a distress call.
“Smoke,” I said, waving away the white cloud.
“Airbags,” Coates called out, sweeping a look over me before returning to the radio. “Rangers Coates and Speigel, carrying protectee Jesse Travis. Our transport has come under attack. Repeat, we are under attack.”
“Ranger, where are you located?” asked the tinny voice as Arnold swerved to avoid another hit.
“Buchanan Dam. Icy conditions. Very dangerous.”
Icy conditions?I looked out the front window, the world spinning, shocked by the gray landscape.
Another impact, rear corner, this one sending the car fishtailing as Arnold tried to stay on the road,but we were going too fast and hit the guardrail at full speed.
The SUV, built like a tank, plowed through the guardrail. More airbags, more smoke. We seemed to hang in the air, a brief moment of silence before gravity took over. My stomach lurched as we were pulled to the dark waters, reminding me how much I hated carnival rides.
Screaming.
Screaming.
The noisy violence of the SUV hitting the placid surface of the lake, then silence.
Lights flickering as water crawled up the massive front end. Sagging airbags. Something hot dripping down my face.
Another loud crash into the water. The other car. Water everywhere. Frigid water filled the space so quickly that I froze in place.
